We Drank A Toast To Now
by December Camie
Summary: Christmas one-shot about Alfred and Natalia based on the song "Same Old Lang Syne" by Dan Fogelberg.


**12/1/2011**

**Why do I keep writing such depressing stuff? Seriously, I'm not even sad when I write…**

**This is a Christmas one-shot about Alfred (America) and Natalia (Belarus) based on the song **_**Same Old Lang Syne**_** by ****Dan Fogelberg. I would suggest listening to it before reading this.**

**Sorry for the OOCness.**

**I do not own Hetalia.**

-o0o-

Today I saw the most beautiful woman in the grocery store.

She was wearing a dark blue dress that clung to her waist and fanned out around her ankles, and her long, platinum blonde hair was tied up in a plain blue bow, just the same as it had been in high school. She was just as tall as I remembered, too. It made me smile to see that she still held her head up as high as if she owned the world, and that she still walked with the confidence and power that showed her strong personality.

It was Christmas Eve, and I hadn't seen her in such a long time that she didn't recognize me at first when I stopped her in the frozen foods section. But then her indigo blue eyes flew open wide, and her face broke into a surprised smile. She went to hug me, but instead ended up spilling her purse, causing her coins to spill all over the tiled floor. We laughed so hard that other customers started to stare, but now I find that I can't remember what was so funny. Together we searched for the lost change, and I asked her if she remembered me. She smiled in reply and told me that I was a hard man to forget, even after all these years.

I stayed with her as she finished shopping, and helped carry her groceries to the checkout stand. After the initial shock of seeing each other, the conversation dragged, portraying our obvious awkwardness. It felt so strange, standing with her again like we were old friends. I kept remembering all of those times I had stood with her, all those times I had helped her, all of those fun times we had back when we were still dating. I almost didn't want to know what she had done with her life after high school, but at the same time, I had missed her. I wanted to spend more time with her, regardless of the heartache that might come with it.

As we loaded her car with her food, I asked her if it would bother her if we went out for a drink. She looked at me as if I was an idiot, and called me a fool; after all, we both knew that she was a vodka lover just like her older brother had been. I laughed sheepishly and took her insult as a yes. We couldn't find an open bar even though there were many in this small town that we had both grown up in, so we bought a six-pack at a nearby liquor store instead. It was snowing as she carried the alcohol back to the car, and purposefully sat in the driver's seat, glaring at me as if to dare me to say otherwise. I didn't protest, letting her have the seat she wanted; I knew it would be a pointless effort to get her to do something she did not want to do.

We drank until the words became easier to say, and eventually the life story that I had been avoiding was told. She said that she had married an architect, a nice man who moved from Lithuania to the United States. He had been an old friend of her brother, and he moved to America for work; it was an unfortunate coincidence that she had first met him at her brother's funeral. He comforted her and her sister in their pain, and had helped the broken family move on. His proposal to her had been completely unexpected, since she had always seen him as a friend, but had accepted his offer anyways. The funeral had changed her, she told me sadly, and she was not willing to hurt the one person who had helped her in her time of need.

"What about now?" I asked her. "Do you love him?" She stared intently at me for a long time, as if trying to memorize the features of my face, before answering.

"I would like to say I love him," she responded finally in her Belarusian accent. "But I do not like to lie."

We talked about everything from her elder sister and my younger brother, to her job and my carrier as a singer. She mentioned that she saw my songs in the record store the other day, and was pleased to know that I was doing well. I grinned, and asked if she had listened to any of my music. She blushed at the question, and refused to respond until I randomly said that her eyes were still as blue as I remembered. Her expression softened at my comment, but there was unreadable emotion in her eyes, making it impossible for me to tell if she was feeling doubt or gratitude.

We drank so many toasts that night that I lost count as the snow continued to fall. We drank a toast to the innocence of youth; we drank a toast to now; a toast to lost time and a toast to the times to come; a toast for questions and uncertainty, a toast to knowing when to move on.

Eventually we ran out of things to say, and the beer was soon gone. There was no reason for me to stay in her company any longer, even though I would have liked to walk with her through the fresh snow that was falling outside. I gazed at her as the lights from a passing car lit up her face. She looked lost and sad, lonelier than she had ever been during high school, but she seemed more at peace with herself now then she had back when we were still going out. She turned back to face me, and she tenderly kissed my cheek as I got out of her car.

I watched her drive away into the night, staring after her long after her headlights had disappeared from my view. I felt the déjà vu of my high school years, and in my mind's eye, I relived the time when she had first left me. Standing in the street. Alone. A pang of loneliness and regret caused my heart to ache, just like the last time.

I shook my head, and lifted my face to the heavens, attempting to shake away emotions I had long learned to lock away. The snow felt welcoming, cooling my hot forehead, and I smiled bitterly at the dark gray sky.

Then the snow turned into rain…

-o0o-

_We drank a toast to innocence,_

_We drank a toast to now._

_And tried to reach beyond the emptiness,_

_But neither one knew how._


End file.
